We'll stand up Champions tonight
by wildcurlgirl
Summary: "Of course, of course the girl with the golden eyes would be the one to move the people." In which the marble statue and the wild enigma get the love they deserve. Oneshot. É/E Rated T because let's face it, Les Mis is not for kids.


**Well. Here's a Les Mis one-shot. Éponine is my hero. So, here she gets what she deserves. The song titles from the lyrics used will be at the bottom. Happy Reading!**

_ "'That song you softly sing is saving you from sinking. It's a long way down, it's a long way..'"_

He likes to walk in the slums at night. When he can't sleep, when he begins to question if his efforts are all for not, he always seems to find a reminder among the poorest of the poor.

Tonight, the reminder comes in the form of a girl. A girl he's watched since she started following Marius around when she was 13. He's watched her change from a slightly dirty, poor, scrawny, and shy little to girl into a cunning, filthy, wild-haired, golden eyed enigma. After all of his years of school, after everything, she has become the one thing he doesn't have answers to. He likes it that way, how she's become his unanswered question.

However, when he gets closer, he realizes the girl is far from her usual self. Standing on the railing of the bridge, the night wind blows her wild, unruly curls all around her. Her usual bright, witty gold eyes are dulled into what could only be describes as the color of sand, and instead of holding her chin high, her head has fallen and tears stream down into the river below. As he gets nearer and nearer, he sees her torn chemise, her beaten and bruised chest, and, to his horror, a nasty cut along her scalp that is bleeding into her eye. He stands quietly at the edge of the bridge as she looks down into the river.

That's when he sees it. He sees it in her eyes, the girl who is usually so unreadable has transformed into an open book as she leans forward and bends her knees. He realizes he's going to watch her die, that her body will cause a ripple in the water and proceed to vanish forever if he doesn't move his feet fast enough, if he's a second later than he needs to be. That's when he tackles her to the ground. She screams, from both pain and shock. He quickly assesses any further damage he may have done, finding only that her cut has continued to gush blood down her face, which he quickly staunches with a strip of his shirt.

"Mademoiselle, I apologize for knocking you down so, but if you think you were going to tumble from that railing under my watch, you're wrong. Now, Éponine. What's going through that pretty head, hmm?" As he says this, he's stood her up and put his hand under her chin to meet his eyes, while keeping one pressed to her wound. Why he's so forward, he isn't sure. She barely knows him, but he feels as if he's known her forever. Such is the effect of people watching.

"Mons- Enjolras?" she seems confused. "What.. why did you do that?" suddenly, she's closed off, her walls built and her words guarding her emotions. The fierceness of her words doesn't meet her eyes, however, as they remain dull and seemingly lifeless. "I was fine." But she knows he won't believe her, and her attempts are futile. He's lead her from the bridge into a nearby park now, and gently he sits her on a bench while she stares at him with her dull, lifeless eyes.

"No you weren't. Éponine, you were going to jump." She turns then, her entire body stiffening and her eyebrows creasing, causing the flow from the wound to quicken. She glares up at him with hurt, sad eyes. In this, he sees her neck, and the hand-shaped bruises that cover it and all of a sudden he's forgotten how to breathe because someone really, truly, _hurt her. _Silently, he allows the hand under her chin to move to her bare collar bone, tracing the bruises with the top of her fingertips. To her everlasting credit, she doesn't so much as flinch as she ignores his touch and spits words into his face.

"Say whatever you want, _monsieur,_" she says with a sneer that again doesn't sound true, "say that it isn't right, that I'll regret it, that people will miss me. Lie to make me feel better. Say Marius will come around. Say they'll stop beating me, that my d_ear _papa will stop selling me to the highest bidder. Go ahead, Enjolras. Make me feel better." Her eyes roll around in her head as she chokes on her last word. She tries to stop those tears, those cursed signs of weakness, but she's failing. It's only appropriate that Éponine looks beautiful when she cries. Instead of a scrunched, red face, her skin remains its usual color and the salty drops fall down her face as if they were simply rain falling from the sky. Her large round eyes have become red and swollen, but they continue to stare into his. Even in her deepest despair, the g_amine_ looks the world right in the eye.

"Come with me. Stay with me. I can help you, Éponine." He doesn't know where the words come from. Surely she'll find them forward, or perhaps even think he's trying to use her like every other man, and his heart nearly breaks in two when she looks at him and laughs maniacally.

"Stay with you? Are you _fou_? A whore like me staying with you? You don't even know me! _Mon dieu, _why are you even here? You're a bourgeois boy, and this is the slums! Why.." she falls then, and he catches her as her eyes close. Quickly, he puts one arm around her shoulder and the other under her knees, lifting her light body and carrying her away.

He brings her back to his flat that night and sends Gavroche for Joly to check her over. Joly stiches up the cut on her forehead and sets her broken arm, something he had overlooked. He wraps her middle, claiming her ribs are badly bruised, and after diagnosing her broken collarbone, forbids her from moving from the bed for the next few days. The young doctor declares she'll be fine after a few days of rest, but when he hears of her attempts, he orders Enjolras to keep her there for a while, to watch the girl who has become a pet to them all, to help her. As Joly kisses her forehead and walks out, he sighs and buries his head in his hands. Rising up, he sees Gavroche sitting on his sister's pillow, her head in his lap as he plays with the girl's dark curls. Realizing the boy has nowhere else besides his sister's side, he gives him a spare nightshirt and bread before tucking him in and kissing the small boy's forehead. If Éponine was his enigma, Gavroche was his Achilles heel. He could never deny the little boy of anything, and tomorrow he'll clean out a space in his library for them both. But for now, he pulls his spare cot to her bedside, and he grabs her hand and puts it to his cheek before drifting off to sleep.

He's there when she wakes up in the morning.

"_I didn't know if I could tell her, I didn't know if I could make her see. She didn't need to find her beauty; she didn't need to find a way to show me. They took her moments of feeling alive and made them moments of dying inside. She needed someone to scream her name, to take her pain."_

To his shock and delight, they stay. They develop a routine- he goes to school, she sleeps in and meets him for lunch in the gardens, and Gavroche continues to spend his days in the Café Musain, driving them all crazy. The boys, he knows, wouldn't have it any other way.

He talks to her about everything, his problems, her problems. He never expected his enigma to be so open. And she isn't, really, but when it comes to him she can't ever seem to shut him out- something she finds incredibly frustrating, and he terribly amusing. He takes her out to get new dresses, to help her find a job. She mentions Marius less and less, until one day his name is no longer mentioned with sadness, but the two become even closer friends. He takes care of the three of them, and Éponine and Gavroche have filled out more than ever. The day Éponine bathes for the first time since her broken collarbone, she comes into the kitchen in a new green dress that makes her eyes spark again, and she's beautiful and Gavorche is happy and he has a family and his lonely flat is finally a home.

They're sitting in the park one day when she looks up and says something that starts a whole new story.

"They can't call me stupid, you know. They can call me a lot of things- small, dishonest, a liar, a cheater, a street rat, even an ugly whore and I'd be hard-pressed to find enough proof to prove them wrong. But I've always been smart. I was smart enough to raise Azelma and Gavroche. I was smart enough to get out of that house during the day, even if I had to return at night. I was smart enough to make sure Azelma got the burial she deserved. I was smart enough to stay after that first night. That's one thing I'll always have on them, 'Ras." She'd shortened his name shortly after she'd arrived, declaring his a mouthful. A pet name became something only she could get by with, aside from Gavroche's persistent 'Enjay'. "I may never be pretty or perfectly honest, but I'll always be smart." The look on her face nearly shatters him- a cross between shame and discontent. He reaches for her hand, and it finally builds his courage. He takes her cheek into his hand, and a look of confusion graces her features. He stays like that for a few moments, his hand on her cheek and his blue eyes boring into her glassy gold ones. Finally, he opens his mouths and lets his shaky words come out.

"No, my dear. My darling Ep, you are beautiful. Your curls are the envy of any woman alive, and those freckles," he pauses, running his thumb over them, "are something I never grow tired of memorizing." He smiles as her cheeks turn red, but her eyes never deter from his as they shine like the pure gold for the first time since that fateful night. "And those eyes, those lovely eyes. Did you know they're the reason I started watching you?" she smiles softly, her golden orbs growing large with wonder and excitement, still holding he hint of confusion from earlier. "There's my smile." He gently kisses her forehead as her breath hitches, and then continues down to the tip of her button nose. Gently, he pulls back, looking for any sign of her disapproval. When he sees none, he pulls her into his lap and wraps his arms around her petite frame. Moving a stray ringlet from her round face, he places his hand on her cheek and allows his lips to meet hers. They kiss for what feels like hours, and when she finally pulls away, settling her head into his lap, she whispers words she swore she'd never allow.

"_Je t'aime, _'Jolras."

"_Je t'aime,_ my beautiful Éponine."

He'll never know what he missed that afternoon of classes.

"_And I just want to be there when the lightning strikes, and the saints go marching in."_

The first time they sleep together is also the first time he sleeps past 6 o'clock in the morning. Gavroche had gone home with Joly, claiming he was sick of the lovebirds, but the entire group knew the small boy had taken a liking to Musichetta, who had become another mother to him. It starts out as a simple kiss, but soon she's pinned on the mattress and her small, nimble hands are roaming his now bare chest. He asks one last time if she's sure, if she's comfortable. And when all he gets is a sly smile and a hand to his belt, her dress is soon thrown to the floor as he kisses her with a fire that only the girl with the golden eyes could bring.

When they finish, when the moans and groans become sighs of contentment and pleasure, he pulls her flush body to his bare chest and draws the blankets to her chin, and gently places a hand on the small of her back, letting his fingertips move across her soft skin. As her ankles intertwine with his, she hooks a leg around him and allows her curls to fan across the sheets before shutting her eyes. He stays awake for a while, watching her sleep and running his fingers over her back. When she smiles and says his name in her dreamland, his heart flutters, and he pulls her closer as he finally drifts off to join her.

The next morning is the sweetest awakening of his life. He looks out the window to find it is nearly 9, but since it's Saturday, he's missing no classes. He looks down to find her asleep in his arms, her soft snores and slightly agape mouth making her all the more beautiful. Sighing with contentment only lovers find, he presses a kiss to her hairline, right over the scar from the night she became part of his life. He continues down to her forehead, the tip of her nose, and slowly kisses every inch of her cheeks covered in freckles. By now, she's awake, and when he reaches her lips she responds, holding his face to hers. When he pulls away, her gold eyes are shining with his favorite emotion yet: love.

When they show up to the meeting that evening, they confirm to their friends their relationship, and after the wolf whistles and clapping have settled, they order a round of drinks to celebrate. He wouldn't have it any other way.

"_I'd be lying if I told you losing you was something I could handle."_

To nobody's surprise but his, their first fight comes on the night they learn General Lamarque is dead.

He gets home from the café late, knowing Joly, Marius, and Grantaire had walked Éponine home while he finished a debate with Combeferre. He opens the door, expecting to find her already in their bed, fast asleep. He begins to panic when he doesn't find her in the bed, or the bathroom, or anywhere in the building itself. Running to the street, he calls her name, desperately fighting off the cold night. He's about to give up, to go home and wait for her when he sees a figure in the nearby gardens, sitting at the bottom of a tree and unmoving. Running toward it, he recognizes the brown ringlets that blow in the wind.

"_Mon dieu, _Éponine! Why aren't you home?" His voice seems to snap her out of her thoughts, and only then does he notice the tears rolling down her cheeks. His heart softens as he bends down to pick her up, but she recoils from his touch and a sob escapes her lips. "Éponine... Ep, love, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" he searches for any sign of pain as she continues to cry. When he finds none, he settles to wipe the tears from her face. She continues to let the sobs rack her body, and he watches on in confusion and anxiety as she nearly chokes on her on breath. After a few suspenseful minutes, finally, her lips part and human sounds release in the form of words.

"I didn't think it would actually happen, Enjolras. You've been talking of revolution for months but," her eyes close as more tears escape, "It's finally happening. I can't lose you. I can't lose any of them, I can't lose Gavroche, I..." she chokes then, and he scoops her into his arms. He should've known she would react like this. But then again, how could he? He's only seen her upset once, she's always so headstrong and happy that it never occurred to him the thought of battle would upset her steel personality. He holds her to his chest and carries her to a nearby bench and rocks her back and forth as her fists ball into his shirt and she continues to sob heavily, his heart breaking at every sound. He searches for the right words, finding so little, and finally he gets brave enough to whisper what he thinks will comfort her.

"I can't tell you that we'll live. I can't lie to you. I must fight, Ep. And I want you to stay with Cosette while the battle goes on. I spoke with Marius tonight, and he said he'd spoken to the girl, and all arrangements have been made. You'll be safe, darling. And Gavroche will go with you- I'll be sure of it. The three of you will be safe until Marius and I return to you, or send someone to fetch you." That's all it takes to snap her. She lets out an earth-shattering scream, nearly causing him to drop her on her round bottom, and begins punching her tiny fists to his chest with all of her strength, which surprisingly knocks the air from his lungs.

"I am not some wilting flower, you fool! I can fight! I can protect you! Don't you see- it's either I before you, or we die together. But I cannot, and will not sit aside with the blonde lark and my baby brother while you and our friends DIE!" She's in his face now, despite the entire ten centimeters of height that separates them. "I. will. Not. Do. It." Each hit brings a fist to his chest, and she breaks into sobs again.

He glares down at her in fury, his mind reeling. How could she say such things? He's going to protect her, he'll always protect her. All he knows is how to protect her. Why is she resisting so? "Éponine... Come on. Let's go home. We'll talk about it after sleep, when we're both level headed." She glares at him for a few more moments, causing him to raise an eyebrow. Gently, he lowers her fists, and she allows him to carry her bridal style to their small apartment, where he sees Gavroche is already asleep on his cot in the library. He lays her gently in the bed, tucking the covers around her shaking frame, and takes off his shirt and shoes, pulling her to him so their bodies curve against each other. He kisses her cheek while she looks at the wall, and when she's absolutely sure he's asleep, she moves their hands to rest on her stomach, pretending he knows what Joly had confirmed in his apartment earlier that night. She's scared, but she won't tell him until after the battle, when they've won. If they win, that is. Marius and Joly had sworn to keep her secret, and Grantaire was so inebriated he won't remember a thing. She allows her mind to wander to what will happen if he lives- she can only hope for a wedding, a larger house complete with a nursery. She'll continue raising her ten year old brother, along with the baby. They'll be a family, a real one. Snuggling into him, she places her hand on top of his, on top of the life they've created.

"_We _can't lose you, 'Ras. _We_ can't lose you."

"_If you live another day in this happy little house, the fire's here to stay."_

When he wakes the next morning, he finds her in the kitchen, staring out of the window with a cup of coffee. Gavroche is already dressed, pushing eggs around on his plate while Éponine looks on. Her face is unusually pale, and her brown hair falls wildly down her back, as if she had forgotten to comb it. When she notices his presence, she walks to him, smiling softly and pressing a kiss to his cheek as he wraps his arms around her and holds her to him. He buries his face in her soft hair, soaking all of her in for what could very well be the last time. Feeling a tug on his coat tail, he looks down to see Gavroche staring up at him with his chocolate eyes. He scoops the small boy up, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, and, sitting in a dining chair, holds them both in his embrace for almost an hour. None of them say anything. They don't have to.

As it's time for him to leave, and for the Thénardier siblings to go to Cosette's home, he kneels in front of Gavroche and straightens his jacket. The boy is trying so hard to choke back tears, to be brave for his sister. He looks the boy in the eye and says "Gavroche, you take care of those girls, understand? They need you." Gavroche nods, and Enjolras hugs him to his chest, kisses his sweet mop of brown hair, and then ruffles the wavy mass. Standing, he looks at Éponine, whose eyes are dull and sad, but stands tall and straight, all five feet of her, showing no sign of tears. He reaches out, tracing the freckles on her cheeks, and tucks her hair behind her ear. She's studying him, watching his every move as she runs her hands through his mass of blonde ringlets. Suddenly, he's kissing every inch of her, from her hairline to her neck. He pulls her into his arms, and a tear runs down his face. Sighing, she pulls back and wipes it away, kissing his lips softly. She hands him his coat, and whispers a soft "I love you", which he returns, kissing her temple a final time before she walks out into the hallway to wait on her brother.

He watches as Gavroche picks up a shirt of his and says, "She'll need it." He nods, and watches as the boy walks to the doorway before turning around one more time and looking him dead in the eye, uttering words far beyond his 10 years. "Come back to us, Enjay. We need you. Éponine needs you."

And with that, the boy walks out of the flat and Enjolras grabs the flag to follow him, finding the siblings already out of his sight.

"_Tonight we'll stand and get off our knees, fight what we've worked for all of these years."_

He should've known better than to believe she'd stay with Cosette.

When he left this morning, she had been so solid and strong, he should've seen it coming that she was up to something. She isn't there, at the barricade, thankfully, and neither are Gavroche or Cosette. But when people start showing up, claiming that one of the three had sent them, he's shocked. People from all social classes arrive, young boys claiming to know Gavroche, middle-aged men claiming relation to his precious Éponine. Even _bourgeois_ men come, armed with guns, ready to fight. He doesn't know what they've been told, but when they climb the barricade and begin to fire, he's grateful.

He's holding Courfeyrac's hand as the man stops breathing, having taken a shot to the chest just moments prior. He knew lives would be lost; he was prepared to watch friends leave him, and he was prepared to die himself. But as his friend's eyes become lifeless and his grip relaxes, reality hits his chest like a ton of bricks. He closes the man's eyes, and helps Marius take the corpse into the café, the designated morgue and hospital. Joly just closes his eyes in grief and shakes his head, and tosses Enjolras a sheet for the body now lying on the floor. He walks back into the daylight, where fire has ceased for the current moment. There are few injuries, only two dead. He should be grateful, but he only feels guilty. He leans against the building when he hears a voice.

"You're Éponine's boy, aren't you?" he turns around, looking at a man of about thirty years questioningly. The man continues, "That girl's one of a kind. She had a rotten man of a father, but she's a gentle soul. She took care of the little girl while she died, and I never saw a day when she didn't check up on the boy. Once Thénardier stole my wallet, and I watched that girl pick his pocket right back and toss it at me when he wasn't looking. When she came to our street today, with that little boy holding the flag high on her shoulders, and that little blonde thing following them, I came. She's alright, that one. People fight for her, because she's fought for us." Enjolras is lost for words. Of course, _of course_ the girl would be the one to move people. He's been working for months, and in just one day Éponine, Gavroche, and Cosette have managed to double his numbers. He nods at the man, offering him a handshake, which is accepted.

"I pretty fond of her myself, _monsieur._" And now, his hope is restored. Even with her not here, she has managed to reassure him of his actions. Shaking his head slightly, a smile gracing his face for the first time all day, he grabs his gun and walks to the top of the barricade, watching for any sign of the National Guard. When he finds none, he turns around to a sight that knocks the wind out of him.

There is Éponine, and Gavroche, and Cosette, flanked by nearly three hundred people of all shapes and sizes, ages, classes. Most have knives, some have guns, and a few have come with only their fists and their spirits. A group of about seven women go to the hospital bearing sheets, lint, and rags. Gavroche and a few more of his friends lead the chant, the cries of "_Vive la France!_" echoing through the streets. Éponine and Cosette's joined hands at the front of the mass raise the flag high in the air, a sight more beautiful than anything he's ever laid eyes on. He turns to find Marius beside him, a bloody rag wrapped around his head to staunch the flow from a cut on his forehead, a wide smile across his face. The minute their girls spot them, they walk over, smiles on their round faces. Marius embraces Cosette, pressing kisses all over her as she cries out. But Éponine, his darling, petite little firecracker, hands him the flag before pressing a kiss to his cheek and walking over to Joly, who begins whispering frantically and ushers her inside the café. Suddenly, he feels a body hit his legs and looks down to find Gavroche hugging his legs tightly. Laughing, he scoops the small boy up and tickles him, and then holds him on his hip as the boy looks him in the eye and says quietly, with his little voice, "I love you, Enjay." Smiling, with watery eyes, he throws the boy onto his shoulders and hands them the flag as they cry together, "_Vive la France! Vive la République!" _

"_Run for your life, my love. Run and you don't give up. It's all that you are, all that you want. I will be close behind." _

The final battle takes 20 of their lives, Combeferre and Gavroche's urchin girl, Madeline, among them. The other 18 he's never even met, but when he sees the man that told him of Éponine among them, he averts his eyes and doesn't look in that direction again.

After hours of firing, of shoving men out of the way, he has managed to escape with only a slash to the shoulder. When the French soldier with the white flag emerges, cries ring out and he looks to find Éponine, to swoop her up into his arms and kiss her, to thank her and love her and take her home. But he only finds a pale Gavroche, who is staring at the door of the Musain, and his stomach becomes uneasy. Sprinting to the boy, he bends down see the tears on the child's cheeks. He asks what's wrong, and Gavroche manages to choke out a few words of "I just wanted to get Madeline out of there, she stopped me, Enjolras, she stopped me." He scoops Gavroche into his arms and swiftly walks into the café, bracing himself for what he might find. He sees Joly finishing stitches on her right forearm, and he runs over, checking for any further damage. He sets Gavroche on the table, who's full-on sobbing now. When Joly finishes, he pats her on the head with a meaningful look, and then goes to check a gash on Marius's cheek as Cosette fusses over the man. He returns his eyes to the siblings, where Éponine has pulled Gavroche into her lap, hushing him and placing gentle kisses onto his head. He sits on the table beside her then, pulling him to her and kissing everywhere his lips can touch, murmuring "thank you" and "I love you." Finally, when Gavroche has calmed down, Enjolras picks the boy up and offers Éponine his arm. She smiles, kissing his cheek and leaning into his embrace, her head on his shoulder and whispers. "Let's go home, 'Ras."

Later that evening, when they've all eaten until their stomachs were full and he's had his fair share of wine and they've had theirs of water, they're all lounging on a sofa by the fire. He's playing with her hair, watching her face for any sign of pain from her arm. All he finds, however, is a blank, unreadable stare behind her bright eyes. She whispers his name, softly, like she isn't sure if she wants him to hear. He looks down to realize Gavroche has fallen asleep at the foot of the couch, and he looks at her, responding with a hushed "Yes, darling?"

She looks down, as if trying to find the right words, and finally she settles with a soft "We're safe."

He nods, confused, and pulls her a little tighter, and presses a kiss to her head. "Yes, love, we are. All three of us." And he's so, so glad they are. He fumbles to his pocket, finding the small circle of metal he's had for weeks, waiting for this moment. Gently, he shifts so she's sitting in his lap, looking at him questioningly. He pulls the ring from his pocket, takes a shaky breath, and takes her hand into his. He looks at her, mustering up the rest of his courage. "And I was wondering, Ep, if you would like to be a family as much as I would. Would you, my darling, do me the honor of becoming my wife?" she looks at him, tears streaming down her cheeks, and breaks into a grin, smiling, nodding. He leans into her and whispers, "Good, because your brother has already given me permission, and I've never been able to tell that boy no." and with that, his lips meet hers in a searing kiss, and he sees dreams of little Éponines running around in a yard, their eyes gold and shining just like their mama's. When he pulls away, she looks at him again with a look he can't quite read, and takes his hand. Hesitantly, she puts it onto her abdomen, and when he snaps his head up for confirmation, she nods, and whispers words into the cozy room.

"The _four _of us, 'Ras. The _four of us._" And so he kisses her, and after carrying Gavroche to bed and tucking him in, he picks her up and carries her, giggling, to bed.

"_The battle was long, it was the fight of our lives, but we'll stand up champions tonight..."_

They get married the next week. Marius stands tall and proud beside him as the best man, and Cosette makes sure everything is perfect as the maid of honor. And when the organ starts to play and his eyes look to the end of the aisle, Gavorche is arm and arm with his sister, whose dark curls fall to her waist freely, and golden eyes spark at the sight of her husband-to-be. Gavroche gives her away at the altar, and when the ceremony ends, he kisses her with everything he has. They spend the evening surrounded by friends, Joly checking on Éponine and the baby, and Gavroche dances with Musichetta on the dance floor. When his wife claims she's tired, they bid their friends farewell, make sure Joly and Musichetta have Gavroche, and leave in the awaiting coach.

When they arrive in a small cottage just outside of the city, he wakes her up gently and carries her bridal style through the front door. All of their belongings now reside in the house, which has a nursery, a bedroom for Gavroche, and an extra bedroom as well as their own large room at the far end of the house. Carefully, he removes the lace dress from her small body and they christen every room, finally falling asleep in their bed as the sun rises, her head on his bare chest and his hands on the small of her back and stomach.

"_Love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right."_

It's only fit that 7 months later, they find themselves with two newborn girls. They settle with Charlotte Marie and Caroline Anne. It's only appropriate that Charlotte, christened Charlie by her uncle, has her mother's golden eyes and brown ringlets, and never seems to sleep or cease screaming. Caroline is content to simply lay in her cradle, or watch her uncle play, or rest in her parent's arms, never uttering more than the occasional whimper of hunger, always laughing with her bright blue eyes and golden curls. He loves them both, though. Together, the five of them form a family. And when one day, after Gavroche has gone off to school, a small Charlie crawls into his lap, asking him why she isn't pretty like her sister. He looks into those golden orbs, mirrors of her mother's, and whispers the truth as Éponine and Caroline continue to play in the garden.

"Your beautiful eyes, my darling Charlie, saved my life." And with that he and his daughter join the other two, laughing and smiling.

_Fin._

**Song credits:**

"**Belle of the Boulevard" by Dashboard Confessional**

"**Annie" by Safetysuit**

"**Us Against the World" by Coldplay**

"**Candle" by White Tie Affair**

"**Little House" by Amanda Seyfried**

"**Change" by Taylor Swift**

"**Run for your Life" by the Fray**

"**State of Grace" by Taylor Swift**

**Thank you for reading. Review please!**


End file.
